Girl Interrupted
by loned
Summary: "Evey looked up at her saviour and she felt frozen too. He was not a man. He was not even a Death Eater. He was worse. A serpent with red eyes, a beast with no face. Voldemort had just saved her life." Set during Deathly Hallows. Time Travel.
1. Evelyn?

_1: Evelyn?_

* * *

><p>"Evey, you coming?"<p>

Demelza Robbins was staring at her expectantly. It was the kind of look Sam probably gave Frodo whenever the hobbit started doubting their mission. Right now, she would have preferred Mordor to Hogwarts.

Demelza looked scared, but she was trying not to show it. No one in that room wanted to admit they were terrified. Evey had no problem with that. She didn't feel bad letting the whole world know she was scared witless. This wasn't a Quidditch game, after all.

Evey cast a look around. Most of the people there were kids, like her. But they would fight you if you tried to get in their way. No one was going to sit this one out. All united for Hogwarts.

Times like these, she wished Hogwarts' Apparition policy was more lax.

"I guess I have to, don't I?"

Demelza threw her a look. "You're joking."

Evey made a face. "Of course I'm joking. Who wouldn't want to get hexed into oblivion by a Death Eater?"

"Come on, we have to help Harry. You know that. And we won't be alone. We have backup," Demelza said, pointing at the other sixth-year Gryffindors gathered around the Room of Requirement.

Evey snorted. "I feel so much better now."

Ginny Weasley, their leader de facto, cleared her throat and called out to the rest of the students whose whispers quickly died down.

"Listen up! We're all leaving in pairs. No matter what happens, you stick to your partner! Okay? Like we practiced! You have fewer chances of getting cursed if you have each other's backs. One of you attacks, the other defends. Got it?"

Demelza and Evey nudged each other in the shoulder, as if sealing their pact to stay together.

"So, how about I attack?" Evey asked, twirling her wand impatiently. "I'm shit at defence anyway."

Demelza chuckled. "That's the spirit."

"Well, if it were up to me, we'd both get out of here and neither would have to attack or defend."

Demelza stuck out her tongue. "You're just saying that. But I know you. You'd never leave Hogwarts like that."

Evey wasn't so sure. In fact, if she had had any Floo powder or some kind of Portkey on her, she would have been miles away.

The only thing stopping her from going home was the fear that, as a Muggleborn, her family would be targeted. It took a long time for her to understand and accept this, but from time to time – like right about _now_ – she thought about leaving. She wouldn't go to her parents' house. She'd just crash in London for a while, email her mum that she was okay and hope for the best. Death Eaters probably didn't know about email anyway.

"Maybe you'll get to hex the Carrow siblings," Demelza offered with forced cheerfulness.

"It would be like early Christmas."

Oh, how she hated those miserable twats. Hogwarts had become a sad, fascist institution ever since they arrived. She wanted to kick them in the face repeatedly. A thing she shared in common with most of her class.

"Robbins, O'Connell! You're up next!" Ginny called out from the other corner of the room.

The two girls exchanged a look.

"Ready?"

"No, but I'll never be, so might as well," Evey shrugged, trying to steady her jittery legs.

The two girls walked out of the Room of Requirement hand in hand.

* * *

><p>"Shit. Dem, are you okay?"<p>

Evey was holding her friend by the waist, trying to guide her to safety. Demelza sported a large injury on her left leg, courtesy of a nasty curse which had hit her by accident.

Evey had discovered that you could die just by having the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The Great Hall was the worst of it, with hexes and curses being thrown left and right at random. If you were smart, you'd steer clear of all that. But Demelza was a Gryffindor, through and through, so of course she wanted to be right in the middle of danger.

_I knew this was a bad idea,_ Evey mused as they found a safe spot behind one of the marble statues in the corridor.

Probably not the best time to be thinking about it, but Evey had to remark what a colossal mistake the Sorting Hat had made placing her in Gryffindor. Tonight made it all the more obvious. She didn't want to fight. She didn't want to be in danger. The Aurors, Dumbledore's Army, The Order of the Phoenix, they could all put their lives on the line happily; she didn't want to be a part of it. She mostly wanted to save her skin (and Demelza's, if she could help it).

_Goddamn, even the third-year Hufflepuffs are fighting_, she thought, feeling ashamed. Not that she was clever enough for Ravenclaw, or devious enough for Slytherin. She was sure there were others who felt they belonged nowhere, and it was particularly bad when you were at Hogwarts. No one liked a coward, but there was no point denying it. She kind of was one.

Right now she was counting down the minutes until they had to go back out there. They'd only suffered minor injuries, so far. But Merlin knew how much longer that would last.

Evey crouched down and inspected her friend's wound.

"Okay, I know one lousy Healing Charm. I'm going to try it, but you might end up with warts all over you."

Demelza smiled weakly, leaning against the wall.

Evey set to work, all the while keeping an eye on what was happening in the corridor.

The injured skin closed a little, but blood was still gushing out. And yes, a couple of warts here and there. She was afraid to continue, lest she made it worse.

_Well, old Muggle practices will have to do._

Evey tore off a piece of her shirt and wrapped it tightly around Demelza's leg.

"Thanks, Eve, you're a life saver."

The girl wiped the sweat from her forehead and smirked. "Yeah, who needs Harry Potter when you've got me?"

But her smirk vanished when a sudden coldness seeped into her bones. She looked at Demelza and she could tell her friend felt the same.

Then, quite unexpectedly, a voice slithered into their heads.

_You have fought valiantly, but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you, rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonour. Join me in the Forbidden Forest, and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me._

"Fuck," Evey expelled, leaning against the wall next to Demelza. Her breathing came out irregular. She felt sick to her stomach.

"Dem?"

"I heard it."

"Voldemort sure has a lovely voice," Evey murmured darkly.

"Do you think Harry's actually going to –"

"He doesn't have much of a choice, does he? I mean, he's not going to run, since he's well...noble and stuff," Evey replied with a sinking feeling. She didn't want to think what she would do, given this choice.

"Oh, God. Poor Ginny. Just imagine."

Evey groaned. "Yeah, let's not."

"So, what do we do? Do we just stand around while Harry sacrifices himself?"

"I don't know. Voldemort said he'd call back his cronies, so the coast is clear, unless he's a stinking liar, which would be expected," Evey surmised, looking over her shoulder at the now empty corridor.

"Come on, we should get out there," Demelza said, nudging her. "Ginny needs us."

* * *

><p>Evey sat next to Colin Creevey' corpse in stunned silence. She blinked back the tears at the corner of her eyes. She bent down and closed Colin's eyelids shut.<p>

"Why'd you come back, Creevey, you idiot..." she trailed off, holding his stiff shoulder. "You should've stayed away. Dumbass."

Demelza stood some feet away, holding a comforting arm around Ginny's shoulders. The girl was sobbing over the still body of her big brother.

Evey tried not to look in their direction. It was a little too heartbreaking.

What was the point of all this, she wondered. Why were they fighting?

_Oh, right. A snake-faced asshole._

She had never hated anyone in that moment as much as she hated Voldemort.

Not that she could do much about it and feeling helpless made her even more angry. Her fingers twitched around her wand. She almost wished there was someone there to curse.

The battle wasn't over. Harry Potter had left for the Forbidden Forest, but she knew the climax was still some way to go.

Technically, even if she _could_ have left the castle, she would have had to drag Dem by the ankles. And the outside world seemed a bit worse now.

They were all stuck together, waiting with the corpses.

* * *

><p>Rodolphus Lestrange was trying to kill her.<p>

Evey more avoided than countered the curses flying at her head, but it was getting harder and harder to deflect them as the man seemed intent upon finishing her off. She had tried running away or dodging him, but he was fast on her tracks and found her each time.

She had been stupid enough to attract his attention when she and Demelza had thrown a hex at his wife. Bellatrix had had Ginny cornered and they had tried to help. Demelza had been saved by Mrs. Weasley, but Evey hadn't been so lucky.

Rodolphus seemed more amused than annoyed that she had attempted to harm his spouse.

He grinned at her as she made to duck under a table.

He reached out for her leg. She tried to kick him in the face, but all she managed to do was get herself dragged out into the open once again.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she cried, but he bent down and it missed.

_Damn him!_

He lifted his wand and jabbed it at her throat.

"Say goodbye, little girl."

Evey gritted her teeth.

"Serpensortia!" she yelled. Not a very practical curse, but she could think of nothing better at the moment. A small snake was conjured out of her wand and wound itself Lestrange's arm.

He yelped and took a step back.

Evey quickly cast a Stinging Hex. Lestrange was blasted into the nearest wall. He dropped his wand. Before he could bend down to retrieve it, Evey had cast a Knee-Reversal Hex which made Lestrange collapse on the ground.

"Accio wand!"

But she was too late. Lestrange was gripping his wand firmly in his hands and before she knew it, he had thrown the Cruciatus Curse at her.

Evey knelt down on the floor and held her arms around her stomach, crying out as the sharp pain made each atom in her body scream. Sharp needles were trying to knit a sweater out of her skin.

Lestrange was up on his feet now. He was holding his wand above her head, twisting it to make the Curse more potent.

Evey couldn't see through the tears and the infuriating pain, but she imagined Lestrange's ugly face leering at her victoriously.

The Death Eater lifted his wand briefly and she thought she might have some respite, but he was just getting ready for another attack.

"Please don't!" she yelled desperately, cowering at his feet. "Please, stop! Stop hurting me!"

Her voice travelled across the Great Hall and was lost in the sea of shouts and screams that engulfed them all.

But someone had heard her cry.

"You want me to stop, girl?" Lestrange laughed. "All right, I'm going to stop for good."

Evey could see it in slow motion; the movement of the wand, the glowing tip turning green.

_I am going to die_, she realized dumbly. _Shit_. _I am going to die. _

She would have liked to feel peace in her last moment. Maybe see a montage of her short life with all the best moments highlighted. But everything was ugly and wrong. The relief she had felt minutes ago, when it had been revealed that Harry Potter was still alive, was slowly turning into bitter resignation.

"Avada –"

Evey flinched, squeezing her eyes shut. She hoped it wouldn't hurt. She hoped it would be fast. She hoped he would miss.

"– Kedavra," another voice finished for him.

Evey had expected for it to be over soon, but she had had no idea it could be that fast and easy. It hadn't hurt at all. In fact, she almost felt as if she was still alive. She could still hear the commotion around her. She could still breathe, too.

_Hang on._

She slowly pried her eyes open. She was staring at the enchanted ceiling. It was a dark grey at the moment.

She turned around, standing on her elbows.

She almost gave a shriek.

Rodolphus Lestrange's body was frozen in place next to hers. His mouth was wide open in surprise.

Evey looked up at her saviour and she felt frozen too.

He was not a man. He was not even a Death Eater. He was _worse_. A serpent with red eyes, a beast with no face.

Voldemort had just saved her life.

And he was staring at her as if he couldn't quite believe she was there.

"...Evelyn?"

_Okay, Voldemort just called me by my full name. What the flying fuck?_

Evey crawled away from him, desperately feeling the ground for her wand. Not that she stood a chance in hell against him, but it was something to hold onto.

"Evelyn."

He had said her name again, this time more confident.

Evey gulped. She was tempted to lie and say that wasn't her name. But he seemed to know her already.

_How?_

"Y-yes?"

"How is this possible?" His voice was unnaturally soft, but devoid of all life. "How are _you_ possible?"

Voldemort seemed to be questioning her very existence. To say she was terrified would be an understatement.

"Are you a ghost?" he inquired, inching closer to her.

She crawled away from him. Was he toying with her? Deliberately messing with her head? What for?

"Why – why would I be a ghost?"

She was actually talking to Voldemort. _Surreal_.

"I thought you were _dead_," he retorted, and his voice was once again cruel and angry. But underneath it, there was a strange pang of sadness that made his words all the more frightening. "I thought you were _gone_. How _dare _you_? _How dare you lie to me all this time? Where have you _been_?"

Evey had recovered her wand, but she had an inkling aiming it at him would make matters worse.

"I've – I've been here."

She had no idea how to get away from him. Her survival instincts were telling her to keep talking. He might not kill her right there and then.

"_How_?" he pressed.

Evey was dumbstruck. The people around them had stopped fighting and were watching the exchange with growing consternation. Some tried to hex him, but he had cast a strong protective charm around himself and her and no one could penetrate their shield.

Evey felt trapped. She had to say something.

_What does he want from me?!_

"How what?" she asked, hoping to delay the answer.

"_Don't_ toy with me, Evelyn. I may have saved your life, but I can crush it in the same instant. You don't know how much I would like to punish you for what you've done."

Evey cringed. Asking what she had done might earn her a curse.

"I – I understand."

"All these years..." he trailed off, his red eyes narrowing, "...you have played me for a fool. You concealed yourself, made me believe you were no more. I should tear you to pieces."

"Okay, please don't."

Evey was freaking out. Curses and hexes kept flying off the shield, leaving it intact. The Aurors had them surrounded, but could do nothing. She watched them with despair.

Meanwhile, Death Eaters were killing people right and left.

Voldemort wasn't even looking at them. He wasn't looking at anyone but her.

"Why shouldn't I?"

Evey winced. She had to invent something to save her skin. She had to give him what he wanted. Clearly, he was undergoing a mental breakdown. And was confusing her with an old schoolmate or something.

"Because I – I thought you were dead too."

_Oh, God, did I really say that?_

Voldemort's expression darkened, but his eyes were less red. In fact, he looked intrigued.

"Um, that's why I just – I just didn't stay in touch," she rambled on. "I thought you were gone."

Technically, this was true. Up until two years ago, Voldemort was believed to be dead.

"You know, that night you disappeared when Harry Potter was a baby," she continued, encouraged by his silence.

Voldemort did not look convinced, but he was considering her words carefully.

"That was fourteen years ago. What about the rest of those fifty years?"

_Jesus, fifty years?! Is he having a stroke?_

Evey blanched. "I – I don't remember. I just remember what I told you."

"You _don't_ remember?"

"No! I swear I don't. I'm –" She was almost going to say she was sorry, but she gritted her teeth and kept quiet. No way was she saying sorry to him.

"Let me refresh your memory. Do you remember _leaving_? Do you remember _breaking_ your word? Because I do. I remember how you turned your back on my gift."

Evey felt tears smarting at the corner of her eyes.

"I don't know what you want from me," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

"Tell me why you are here! Tell me what Dark Magic has preserved your youth! Tell me why you left!"

His wand was pointed at her. It glowed menacingly.

Evey felt the taste of salt in her mouth. Desperate times called for desperate lying.

"I didn't leave you!" she expelled. "They took me away!"

His grip seemed to waver.

Evey breathed in and out, holding her arms over her stomach.

"_Who_ took you away?"

She didn't have to think hard about the answer. Seized by a sudden brilliant idea, she pointed her finger at the Death Eaters around them.

"They did!"

Voldemort looked at his followers for the first time since their confrontation had started.

"The Death Eaters," Evey spat out, frightened. "They did this."

She could see him tighten his grip on his wand, but its trajectory had veered towards the masked figures. Evey realized he might actually curse them, if given enough incentive.

Whoever he thought she was, it must have been someone he remotely cared about.

Evey hoped her next words wouldn't doom her.

"They didn't like me around you."

Voldemort turned towards her again.

"They would not disobey me."

"Maybe they didn't. Maybe…" Evey trailed off. She was running out of ideas.

"…maybe they thought it was the right thing to do," she finished shakily.

A tear ran down her cheek. "You have to believe me."

Something in his demeanour changed visibly. With a flick of his wand the shield was gone. Before the Aurors had time to attack him, he had already seized upon two Death Eaters. They fell dead at his feet like flies. The curses and hexes the wizards threw at him didn't seem to affect him, even when they touched him. He parted his way through the crowd and killed one Death Eater after another.

Evey stood rooted to the spot, watching the massacre in complete shock.

She tried to find Demelza among the people around her, but her friend was nowhere to be seen.

She saw someone else, however.

Harry Potter.

He was following Voldemort.

Evey's feet started moving after him. People made way for her. She knew they were staring. Some of her classmates were glaring, too. It can't have looked anything but suspicious that Voldemort somehow _knew_ her.

_They don't honestly think I'm in cahoots with that…that psycho, do they?_

How could Evey O'Connell have anything to do with it? She was just a lazy witch who complained a lot. There was nothing evil or dark about her.

Harry was gaining ground on Voldemort.

She watched in horror as Death Eater after Death Eater fell prey to him. Some tried to flee, others tried to put up a fight. That only seemed to anger him more. He killed with precision, a dark and chilling fury guiding his movements. And because his followers did not expect the attack, it was all the more efficient.

He wouldn't have stopped, either. But Harry Potter stood in his way now.

Evey rushed towards them, heart in her throat. She had no idea if she was doing the right thing, but she couldn't turn her back on what she had seen. For once, personal safety was thrown out the window.

"…you could still recover your soul, you could still save the last piece left in you," Harry was telling him.

"Recover my soul?" Voldemort spat, cackling bitterly. "I have no soul left."

In the blink of an eye, he had cast a Killing Spell. But Harry had been fast too.

"Expelliarmus!"

The Great Hall was illuminated by two colliding rays, one green and one red.

"You can't defeat me, Tom! The Elder Wand, it won't listen to you. I disarmed Draco. It belongs to me. It won't hurt me."

"You think you can say my name now, Harry Potter, but you haven't defeated me yet!"

Everyone in the Hall stood back, silent and still, watching the duel unfold, but Evey couldn't ignore the pressure building up in her chest. Shock or madness made her step away from the crowd and edge closer to the rays of light. She saw Demelza in the first rows. The girl was waving her arm, mouthing something at her desperately.

Evey was just relieved her friend was okay.

Then, she caught Voldemort's eye.

She was standing closer to him, her face awash in the red light of his Killing Curse.

"Evelyn. Kill him. Kill Potter," he rasped, his face twisted with rage.

Evey looked at Harry.

The boy she had known for the past six years was drenched in sweat, his face contorted with effort, but also illuminated by a powerful conviction.

"Evelyn..." Voldemort called to her again. "I think, for once, I cannot do it alone."

She gawked at him. The most feared wizard in the world had just admitted to her he needed help.

"I never thought I would ever see you again. But your presence is restoring faith in my powers."

Evey shuddered at the notion that she was in some way helping him.

"What are you waiting for? Do it, Evelyn!"

She opened her mouth, but it was as if something was stuck in her throat and she couldn't get it out.

"Do it, if you truly never left me!"

It startled her, the familiarity which he used with her. As if somewhere out there, her doppelganger had been Voldemort's only true friend.

Evey felt a strange pang in her chest. She did not pity him, but his belief in her made her feel responsible for something she had not done.

She looked down.

"No. I can't."

"Evelyn, we will leave this place together and we will have peace, but do as I say!"

Evey clenched her fists.

"I won't."

Voldemort howled. His own wand was not obeying him. It was obeying Harry, turning the Killing Curse against him. The Elder Wand could not be controlled. And yet, he was resisting. Still living.

"You are angry I did not search for you more, you are angry I did not fight for you," Voldemort spoke, his voice now hoarse, like a snake's hiss.

"I would have, if I had _known_. No one would have stood in my way. I would have done anything to get you back."

Evey saw from the corner of her eye that people around her were trying to get close, trying to pull her away. She took one step further towards him.

"Anything?" she asked, feeling sick to her stomach. "Even give up this war?"

His eyes darkened. "You know this was inevitable."

Evey looked around at the destruction, the bodies, the chaos.

"Then, you can have the war. Whoever Evelyn was to you, she's not me."

"Of course it _is_ you. You think I would not recognize you?"

"I'm not _her_."

For the first time, she saw pain, beyond the physical kind, cross his red eyes.

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know _you_. All you are to me is a killer. I don't know you."

"Evelyn."

"You saved my life, but I've never seen you before until today. And I hope I never see you again."

Her voice turned harsh and angry. She remembered Colin Creevey's corpse. Her eyes flashed with grief.

"Whoever you are, I don't _want_ to know you."

And then, despite her rage, despite her disgust, she said the two words she promised she would not say.

"I'm sorry."

It was these words that undid him. The simple _I'm sorry_ from a girl who was completely indifferent to him. The indolent pity from a stranger who had once been much more.

"_Evey_..." he half-whispered to himself and then, suddenly, all the force in his body was gone.

The Elder Wand flew into the hand of its rightful owner, Harry. And the Killing Curse, deflected against the Disarming Charm, hit him straight in the chest.

Evey watched in horror and relief as the red light in his eyes vanished and he fell to the ground with a sickening thump. He was still looking at her, even though he could no longer see anything.

Fresh tears sprung into her eyes for no reason. _Evey..._

Arms caught her from behind. People were pulling her away from the carnage.

By the time she recovered, she was being held by Demelza.

"Evey, snap out of it, it's all right, it's over..."

But she couldn't get the image out of her head. She heaved and threw up. She saw black spots in front of her eyes and then the whole world went dark.

* * *

><p>Her back was killing her. She came round slowly to the chatter of voices around her. The first thing she saw was the grey ceiling. She was still in the Great Hall. She was lying on a mattress.<p>

Madam Pomfrey was making her drink something that looked like bile.

Evey saw Demelza and other classmates standing by her bedside. All around the Hall, makeshift beds had been set up to tend to the injured.

"Evey? Can you talk? Are you okay?"

"I'm – what's going on?"

Of all the people she had expected to see among the wounded, she had not imagined herself. How had she ended up here? She remembered Demelza getting injured, she remembered hiding with her, staying away from the battle. Why had they ever left that place?

_Oh, right. _

"You passed out back there," her friend supplied, as if guessing the confusion in her head. "But it's all right now. It's finally over. We did it."

It took a few moments to understand what this meant.

_He's dead._

Demelza was smiling at her, but her voice faltered at the end, and her expression was troubled. She noticed the other students gathered around her looked equally disturbed. No one else was smiling.

Ginny Weasley was among them.

"Evey, I hope you're feeling better. We sort of need to talk to you. _All_ of us. You can imagine...we have a few questions."

Evey gradually realized she had not dreamt the past hours. Voldemort was dead. And he had died calling out her name and looking straight at her. The memory made her fall back on the mattress.

"I don't know if I can help you, but I have been through what you are experiencing," Ginny continued in a careful voice.

Evey frowned. "What do you mean?"

Demelza put a hand on Ginny's shoulder.

"Now's not the time, Gin. Evey needs rest. And...I'm sure it's not what you think it is."

Evey was getting frightened by now. She had many questions too. She wanted to know why Ginny Weasley was looking at her as if she were damaged goods.

But Madam Pomfrey was pouring down another bilious liquid down her throat and she soon fell asleep once more.

She dreamt of red eyes and dead bodies.

* * *

><p><em><strong>uuum, so I've been working on this story for a while and I'm finally publishing. Hope you like it! Also, first story so be gentle, please. Some parts of Deathly Hallows were modified, of course.<br>**_


	2. How could I know him?

_2: How could I know him?_

* * *

><p>The rare moments of lucidity never lasted long.<p>

She rose out of her dreams only to drink more medicine and then throw it all up.

Then, she was back in her feverish memories, running through the castle, bumping into injured students, getting hexed by Death Eaters.

The confrontation with Lestrange always came last. Except, in her dreams, he managed to cast the Killing Curse and end her life.

In the following emptiness, she could hear _his_ voice calling her name. She had joined Voldemort in the land of the dead.

* * *

><p>Evey woke up with a start.<p>

Her eyes landed on the bright, almost aggressive red of her bed hangings, billowing gently across her fingers.

Her throat was dry like parchment and her limbs were quite stiff. She was wearing her pajamas, but her skin felt grubby and she didn't give off a very flattering smell.

Evey realized she must have been sleeping for days.

Someone had carried her all the way to the Gryffindor Tower. She swung her feet over the bed and heaved. A wave of nausea hit her straight in the pit of her stomach. She put a hand on the bedpost for support but the awful feeling only increased.

Evey breathed in and out, like a swimmer coming up for air. She wondered if someone was waiting for her beyond her bed.

_Of course they are. They all want answers._

The thought of lying down again was very tempting.

The only thing worse than hearing Voldemort say her name affectionately, was having to explain to others why he had done it.

She had a hunch that "I have absolutely no clue" would not satisfy their curiosity.

_Merlin, did it even happen?_

It must have. Otherwise, the sound of his voice, ordering her to kill Harry Potter, wouldn't still echo in her ears.

At length, she dragged herself out of her stupor and pulled the hangings aside.

The dormitory was completely empty. No. More like devoid of human existence. There was no sign that anyone lived there. All the girls had packed and left.

Evey climbed down into the Common Room, her head whooshing with the sound of her own erratic heartbeat.

Expecting it to be just as empty, she did not catch the figure sitting by the fireside.

She was about to dash towards the bathroom, when the person rose precipitately.

"I was hoping you'd wake up soon. Er, hi, I'm Harry."

Evey stood there stock-still, watching in slow-motion as the Boy Who Lived walked up to her and shook her hand. It didn't feel like she was there.

"Yeah, I know who you are."

Her voice sounded stupid and numb to her own ears.

"Right. Sorry, I hope I didn't scare you. How are you feeling?" He seemed just as uncomfortable with their exchange as she.

Evey's eyes inevitably wandered to his scar.

"I'm –" _Fine?_ Could she even say that, considering all that had happened?

"I need a shower."

Harry smiled. "I'll let you clean up. Do you need anything? Do you want me to call Madam Pomfrey?"

"No. I'll be okay on my own. Do you know if Demelza is still here?"

Harry scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, I think she left for home. Most of the students have."

"How long have I been out?"

"Roughly a week."

Evey balked. "A week. Wow."

"Madam Pomfrey took care of you."

Evey nodded her head, all the while wishing she were talking to anyone else but the one person who had been close enough to hear Voldemort's words.

"I'll be here when you come out," he promised, giving her another wan smile.

* * *

><p>Evey sat under the shower head for what felt like hours. Harry Potter could wait. She wanted to scrub out all the dirt from her skin, get rid of all the mementoes from that night. Maybe if she cleaned hard enough, she'd clean <em>that<em> part too.

Demelza and the rest of her Year were gone. The children were home with their families. She had to face the adults now.

She felt that empty pit in her stomach she got before a big exam. They would question her and prod inside her mind and try to find out the elusive "_why"._ She knew all too well they would discover no "_why_". And she was terrified, because she couldn't even provide a question, much less an answer.

She almost wished she had been an accomplice, that she _had_ been involved with Voldemort and the Death Eaters just so she could have a story in her head, a narrative that made sense.

Eventually, she had to come out of the bathroom.

The mirror had been fogged up by the steam and when she wiped her hand over the surface, she saw not only her pale face but also his. His ghastly face in the moment of death. Before the red light in his eyes was extinguished.

Evey stepped back, rubbing her eyes and slapping her cheeks.

_Going insane, huh? Maybe you can sell them on that. That you're just crazy._

* * *

><p>Harry offered to take a detour to the Kitchens for a bite to eat, but she was adamant to do this on an empty stomach.<p>

The sooner this was over, the better.

They gargoyle stepped aside and they both climbed up the stairway to the Headmaster's Office.

Only now it was Headmistress.

She was not surprised to find, upon entry, that Minerva McGonagall now occupied Professor Snape's position.

She felt a surge of relief at the sight of her no-nonsense Head of House. In her early years, she had taken comfort in knowing that, no matter how many times she got her Transfiguration homework wrong, showed no excitement for Quidditch or just generally failed to live up to Gryffindor expectations, McGonagall was always there to assure her that she did, after all, have a place in her House.

The Headmistress was not alone, however. Seated across from her were Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, a dark-skinned man she had never seen before and…Ginny Weasley.

Evey could feel herself growing hot. Her palms were sweating. Her legs wobbled.

Harry guided her to a chair in the middle of the room. She felt like a prisoner getting ready for her interrogation.

_Stop. All of these people mean well_, she reasoned.

"Miss O'Connell. I'm glad you could join us. We are relieved to see that you are well," McGonagall began formally. Her authoritative tone would have usually put Evey at ease, but she also sensed an ebb of anxiety in the elder woman's voice.

"We don't wish to impose too much on you at once, but we felt it only fair to speak with you as soon as you woke. I am sure you have as many questions for us as we have for you."

Evey looked into everyone's eyes. Their faces betrayed curiosity and suspicion. But Ginny's also showed something else; fear.

"Are my parents okay?"

"Certainly, Miss O'Connell," the dark-skinned man chimed in eagerly. His cheerful tone clashed terribly with her apprehension. "The Ministry has checked in with every Muggle family and we are happy to say there were few casualties. Your parents are waiting for you to return home."

"Kinglsey Shacklebolt, pending Ministry of Magic," he offered when he saw her confusion.

_Wow. What's he doing here? Is it **that** bad?_

Evey pressed on with more questions about her friends, about Hogwarts, about the Ministry, if only to stall the inevitable. But she could see there was no avoiding the elephant in the room.

"Fresh after the battle you must understand we are still very much concerned with the culprits and victims. Voldemort may be dead, but not all of his Death Eaters have been apprehended," Professor Flitwick began in an amiable, but strained voice.

"We only wish to weed out the guilty, dear," Professor Sprout continued gently. "And I'm sure you are innocent, but we must take precautions."

Evey frowned. _Precautions?_ _Sounds like she thinks I'm one of them...the guilty.  
><em>

Could she blame her Professors? No, but it still came as a blow.

"You must understand, it is not we who must determine your involvement in the Battle, but the Ministry. We are here to help you and get your story straight before an official commission starts an inquiry," McGonagall intervened in her most reasonable voice.

Evey had trouble breathing. _Official commission…inquiry…oh God.  
><em>

"Minerva, you've frightened the girl. It is not as bad as it sounds, Miss O'Connell," Shacklebolt put in with an uneasy smile.

"You think…you think I'm a Death Eater?"

"Of course not!" Harry cried to her right. "We don't think you had anything to do with this, Evey. But the Ministry's the problem."

McGonagall levelled a look at Harry that made him step back and shut his mouth.

"What Mr. Potter is trying to say is we don't believe one of our students, a Gryffindor to boot, had any involvement with Voldemort and his followers, but whatever happened that night will look bad to the Aurors if we do not get our story straight."

"Our story? There's only one story," Evey replied, feeling a lumpy weight in her throat.

"That's the one we want to hear," McGonagall nodded her head.

Evey clenched her fingers in her lap.

"What if I can't tell you anything? Will they take me away to Azkaban?" Her voice sounded pathetic to her own ears, but she couldn't help it.

"What an idea! Certainly not!" Shacklebolt intervened. "There is no reason to think it will go so far."

"But it _could_?" she insisted.

"As future Minister of Magic, I can guarantee you will be entirely safe if you cooperate. And you're already doing splendidly."

"I haven't said anything yet," she mumbled, looking down.

For a moment, everyone was silent.

And then, Ginny Weasley spoke up.

"You're not to blame, Evey. He…he got into your head, didn't he? You can tell me. Trust me, if there's anyone who knows how that feels, it's me. The Ministry can't interrogate you if he possessed you."

Evey gasped. "_Possessed_ me? He was never in my head!"

Ginny pursed her lips. "Are you sure about that?"

"Now, Miss Weasley, let's not jump to conclusions. That is only a possibility, not the truth. Let's hear what Miss O'Connell has to say in that regard," McGonagall intervened.

"Why do you think he – he possessed me?" Evey sputtered, growing more confused with each moment.

"We all saw you, Evey. You were talking to him, like you _knew_ him. And then you walked up to him when he was fighting Harry? That was _madness_," Ginny continued feverishly.

Evey was not sure whether this wasn't one her nightmares. She burst into a fit of laughter.

"You can't be serious! I was just trying to save my skin. I never saw the git before in my life! How could I know him?!"

"If he's been inside your head, you'd know him," Ginny muttered darkly.

"But he hasn't! Look, you've got to believe me! Before that night, I'd never seen or spoken to him! I swear it!"

"We believe you, Miss O'Connell. We are just struggling to understand…why you. Why you, of all the students and the people that night, were singled out," Professor Flitwick explained.

"I don't know!" she cried out, the helplessness of her situation beginning to sink in. "I...honestly don't know."

"Regardless of your knowledge, _he_ seemed to know you," McGonagall proceeded, eyeing her carefully. "We have considered other options, too."

"Other options?"

"We thought he might have mistaken you for you a childhood friend. I searched for students bearing the name Evelyn in Riddle's time at Hogwarts and came across four," the Headmistress continued matter-of-factly. "I would like you to take a look and tell me if you recognize any of the surnames. They could be distant relatives."

Everything was moving a little too fast. She was being asked to look into his past. She had gone from knowing nothing about Voldemort to…possibly knowing too much.

Harry passed on to her a sheet of paper with four names scribbled down. Her heart sank when she realized he and the rest of them had been preparing this for days, coming up with all sorts of theories about her, trying to figure her out, like she was an anomaly, an unwanted intruder.

She looked down at the paper. At first, the names all looked the same. Letters without meaning strung together in random order. She recognized none.

_Cresswell, Evelyn_

_MacDougal, Evelyn_

_Potts, Evelyn_

_Bulstrode, Evelyn_

"MacDougal was Pureblood, Cresswell, Half-Blood. The latter has more chances of being related to a Muggleborn. Bulstrode was also Pureblood, Slytherin. She is the likeliest candidate on the list, since she belonged to his House, but the likelihood of kinship between her line and your family is quite small."

Evey was only half-listening.

_Evelyn Potts. _

_Potts. _

It was just a strange coincidence. Her beloved childhood teddy bear, the one she had lost in the house fire, had been called Mr. Potts. She had meant to take him with her to Hogwarts, but she had never gotten the chance. That was a long time ago, anyway. Potts was a common surname. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"As for Potts, we believe she was Muggleborn. Hufflepuff. She would be the likeliest candidate, except for the fact that she suffered a fatal accident after Hogwarts, which suggests a lack of heirs. In any case, we are trying to establish contact with the families, to see if there is a connection," McGonagall pressed on, waiting for the girl's reaction.

Evey swallowed. They had wasted no time.

"I don't recognize the names, I'm sorry."

"There is no need to apologize, dear. We will get to the bottom of it eventually. We have solved bigger mysteries before," Professor Sprout offered kindly, but her voice reflected little of that confidence.

"But," she started, licking her lips, "why does it _matter_?"

They all stared at her like she'd grown a second head.

"I mean, he's dead. _Gone_. Why does it matter if he thought I was someone he knew?"

"It matters… because whoever that was, he cared for her," Harry Potter suddenly spoke up, startling her. She had almost forgotten he was there. "Cared enough that he gave up the fight."

"_What_?"

"I know how it sounds. But I saw it. I _felt_ it. He lost all will to live in that moment when you turned your back on him."

Evey shook her head. "I – no, stop it. I had nothing to do with it!"

Harry sighed. "I'm not so sure. He would have lost anyway. He didn't really stand a chance. But he wouldn't have gone down quietly. Your presence there seemed to …seal his fate."

Evey wanted to laugh again. She seemed to be walking a thin line between hysterics and tears.

"And I thought _I_ was the crazy one."

"Yeah, well, we've all been doubting our sanity recently," he spoke softly, making Evey feel ashamed of her remark.

"Still, you have to admit it's _bloody_ ridiculous."

Harry smiled wryly. Let's hope the Ministry agrees."

Shacklebolt coughed pointedly.

"The Ministry does not wish to find a scapegoat. Only the truth. Start from the beginning, Miss O'Connell. Tell us everything."

* * *

><p>Hours later, she was thoroughly exhausted. Back in the Gryffindor common room, she sat numbly by the fire, running the meeting over in her head. But it was all in vain; she was just as clueless as before.<p>

She had learned nothing new and neither had they. Her account had only plunged them further into darkness. The best they could come up with was that in his madness, Voldemort had seen in her someone very dear, someone that must have died a long time ago.

"You were very smart, you know that, right?"

She looked up from the flames. Harry put down a tray filled to the brim with food. There was also a steaming kettle.

"The house elves are treating us to a small feast," he explained.

"Nice of them to bother. Merlin, I'm starving," she realized, digging in without further words.

They ate in silence, but it wasn't a very pleasant meal. Both their minds were too preoccupied to enjoy the food.

"Why did you say I was smart?" she asked at length.

"Well… you played his game. You gave him what he wanted. You made him believe you were…her, whoever she was."

_Evelyn Potts._

Evey shook her head. There could be no connection between a stuffed toy and a witch living in the 1940s.

"Guess my survival instincts kicked in."

"I know. I'm glad they did. You handled yourself well."

Evey brightened. The Ministry might suspect her of ties to the Dark Lord, but at least someone appreciated her fast thinking.

"Yeah. I got to impersonate the dead girl Voldemort was obsessed with. Scratch that off my bucket list."

Harry laughed. "Not a small achievement."

"More impressive than my Potions marks, that's for sure."

They both seemed to share in the amusement for a while before Evey spoke again.

"Not to give myself a bad name, but I'm not exactly the type who gets involved in this stuff."

"What stuff?"

"Important stuff. War, Dark Lords, prophecies…I mean if it were up to me, I'd skip it altogether."

"It's not always a choice," Harry winced.

"But it has to have some _meaning_, right? There's no meaning here. It's just a weird coincidence."

Harry rubbed his neck. "A friend of mine would say that just because we don't see meaning, it doesn't mean there's none."

"Let me guess, Hermione Granger?"

Harry smiled. They fell into a comfortable silence again.

"Is Ginny upset with me?" she asked at length.

The Weasley girl was notably absent from the common room.

"Why would she be?" he furrowed his brows.

"She…she sounded like she was sure I'd been possessed."

"You have to understand, she never forgot what he did to her. She doesn't want anyone to go through that again."

"_Did_ anyone else?"

"I did. For a short while."

Evey shivered. "He got inside your head?"

"That was the scariest part about him. He could attack you without magic, without weapons. Although…the way I see it, in your case, it was the other way around."

"What do you mean?"

"Seems like you got into his head instead."

Evey looked away, her eyes smarting with unshed tears.

"I just want to go home. I just want this whole thing to disappear. I want to be back in my room, wasting time, getting bored with summer holidays. I want to be normal again."

Harry chuckled.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just reminded me of someone."

"Who?"

"Me."

* * *

><p>Evey was scheduled for her Ministry hearing on the first of August. The date hung over her head like a death sentence. She returned home shortly after her grilling session in the Headmistress' office, but nothing felt the same anymore.<p>

Her parents buried her in hugs and kisses. Her dad even made her the disgusting mac and cheese dish she liked best. They coddled her without shame. They did not know the full extent of the Battle, but they had heard enough to never want to let her out of their sight again.

And yet, Evey could not fully respond.

She was grateful for her family's attention. Without it, she would be like an anchorless ship, floating on unsteady waters. At least in the Muggle world, she was loved and no one suspected her of dark thoughts and dark actions.

But there was a growing gap between her and her parents which she could not fill in. She had not yet revealed to them why she needed to go to the hearing, and she could never imagine telling them the full story.

_Hey, mum and dad, just letting you know I might be in a bit of trouble. Remember that all-powerful Dark Lord who terrorized the wizarding world and was recently vanquished? Yeah, they think I was part of his ensemble._

She had to come up with something, though, because if the hearing went sour, they would be nothing short of aghast to find out their daughter might serve time.

_ I'm already seventeen, so anything goes. But no. They can't lock me up without proof. They won't find anything. I'll be okay. He's dead. I'll be okay._

Yet, she woke up thrashing and kicking in the middle of the night, fighting off an invisible presence. Every time her mother found the bedding on the floor, Evey could not offer an explanation. She could not explain to her these vivid nightmares and why they had grown so real.

Even as a decaying corpse, Voldemort could still potentially ruin her life.

And Evelyn Potts, whoever she had been, haunted her.

* * *

><p><em><strong>So, second chapter. Thoughts? Comments? Criticism? Please let me know! Many thanks to all the people who reviewed, including <span>Guest<span> (nope, not selfish), Estelle Lumene, NobLe123, Bella (thanks!), Sketch1997, Ash (thanks, I'm looking forward to writing more too), Wise Ocean. Thank you for reading.**_


	3. Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas

_3: Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Evey,<em>

_I got your letter a week ago, but I only just got back from Germany where I visited Gran and I didn't get a chance to write. Awfully sorry about that. Mum was all "Family first, yada yada". I don't know about your parents, but mine are being very sentimental these days. We're visiting all the relatives. It makes sense. How are things with your family?_

_Merlin, I couldn't believe it about the hearing! Has the Ministry gone mad? First I thought you were pulling my leg. I just can't picture McGonagall not putting a stop to this. It's so ridiculous, really! How are you holding up? I hope you're not worrying about this, because it's not worth the bother, Eves. I mean it's bureaucracy at its finest. Just a waste of time! (Dad thinks so too)_

The letter went on in this fashion, assuring Evey that there was no feasible reason for which she might get in trouble at a Ministry hearing. Not once did Demelza make any reference to the _reason_ behind the hearing. Not that Evey had expected her to write about the Dark Lord, but it was strange how she tiptoed around the subject.

Evey didn't condemn her. When something doesn't fit any pattern of logic, it's best to avoid it altogether. She wished she could do the same.

_I am dying to meet up, we have so much to talk about! I'm starting to get comfortable with my old life again before – you know, the Battle and all that. I really want to know about you, though. I think we should meet up as soon as possible. Write me a date and we'll set it up!_

_Lots of love,_

_Dem _

Their meeting never happened. Evey looked over the second letter now. She couldn't help a defeated sigh from escaping her lips.

_Dear Evey,_

_You have every right to say I'm awful, but I don't think I can make our meeting. I know how it sounds, but trust me, if I could get out of here, I would. Long story short: my parents are being impossible! You know I hate it when we have secrets so I'm going to just come out and say it. Mum and Dad found out what the hearing's about and they're not letting me meet you. They're so thick, they think it's dangerous! I honestly wish I were adopted. I tried reasoning with them, but it's like teaching ballet to trolls (I guess I miss Hogwarts, after all. Remember the statue?)._

_Anyway, I feel terrible and I don't know how to make it up to you. I have this idea, but I don't know if it'll work. They can't be pissed at me if I see you after your hearing, right? So I'm thinking maybe we should just meet up on the first in London and ignore my demented parents?_

_Please let me know if that's okay and a million apologies again for my extremely rude parents. _

_Lots of Love, _

_Dem_

The third letter was a bit more uplifting, and it was from none other than Harry Potter himself.

_Evey, _

_I know it might not be the best of time to write to you and I know you're tired of hearing the same things all over again, so I will try to be brief and say something more substantial than "everything will be all right". _

_When I was fifteen I went through something similar. Well, my hearing was about casting a Patronus to defend myself against Dementors, but my fate was in the balance too. The hearing went well, mostly because Dumbledore was there, though at the time, I didn't really appreciate it and thought I was done for. Back then, everyone was more paranoid and the Ministry was rife with people who shouldn't have been there, like Umbridge. Now, I expect and hope things to be different._

_What I wanted to say was that I felt really scared, probably for the first time in my life. At that point, I'd already confronted some strange, dark things, but it was only when I was about to lose my place at Hogwarts that I really felt afraid. I know you must feel the same, or at least, feel that this hearing will alter your life in the magical world. But the truth is, it won't. Whatever they think about you or decide to do with you, you will still be the brave witch who fought against Voldemort and won. I do firmly believe that if you hadn't been there and done what you did, more people would have been injured, fewer deaths would have been prevented and I may have defeated him at greater costs. Maybe I wouldn't have defeated him at all. What I'm trying to say, Evey, is that you are worth more than this hearing and you will get out of it unscathed. I promise you.  
><em>

_I wish you the best of luck, even though you don't need it. _

_Sincerely, _

_Harry Potter_

Evey didn't know what to think about being given so much credit. She felt detached from her own supposed victory. Harry's words were kind, but he was wrong. She wasn't brave and she hadn't won. Not yet. However, the letter disturbed her and kept her awake for many nights. One particular sentence haunted her the most: _Maybe I wouldn't have defeated him at all_. She felt sick to her stomach to think about a world where Harry wouldn't have defeated him. And she felt even sicker to contemplate that he believed it had depended on her.

Evey would have liked to remind them all that she still slept with the lights on, still wore a onesie to bed, still wrote in a diary, and was still just another average girl. Maybe she didn't want to be brave. Maybe she didn't want to win. Maybe she just wanted to live.

* * *

><p>The first of August came too quickly for her to get her story straight. She had practised some answers and had come up with a semi-coherent narrative of the events of that night, but she was nowhere near ready to say all of it in front of some judgemental angry wizards. Chances were she'd mess up badly. She had only once chance to convince them.<p>

"One chance," she told herself as she stared into the bathroom mirror, like a convict going to jail. She did a thumbs up at her own reflection, but mirror-Evey only scowled.

"Where's your famous optimism?" she asked herself. Mirror-Evey stuck out her tongue.

"Can't be worse than the O.W.L.s, can it?" her mother offered unhelpfully over breakfast. Her parents were still in the dark about the importance of the hearing and at this point Evey wouldn't have known _how_ to tell them even if she had wanted to. She nodded her head bleakly and bit into the dry toast. She _should_ have asked her mother to make her those fluffy pancakes she liked best because Merlin knew when she'd get to eat them again. She _should_ have hugged her dad and looked over the house one last time. But she didn't want to jinx her luck.

London was a two-hour drive away and her parents had offered to go with her. She had insisted on taking the train. Two hours stuck in the family car would undo her completely. And she needed all the courage she could muster.

"I don't feel right leaving you alone after all that happened," her mother had protested in a sentiment shared by her father. But at length they had caved in when she explained she was meeting Demelza. A white lie, since she didn't expect to see Dem at all, even if her friend had promised. But it was better than telling them the truth.

So it was in the company of no one but herself that she arrived in London that awfully sunny and cheerful August morning.

"God, and the birds have to be chirping too," she muttered as she passed by a tree full of little sparrows. Why couldn't the world be sad with her?

Evey stopped to get some much needed coffee. She had stored some Muggle money in her purse and a couple of galleons too. The money was for the dinner she'd treat herself to if the hearing went well. The galleons were for bribing the guards at Azkaban. It was a little morbid joke she shared with herself. Rationally, she knew she wouldn't – _couldn't_ – end up there. But then again she had not planned on ending up in _this_ very situation either. She had also brought Harry's letter with her. Not for good luck, but as a reminder that someone believed in her. It was crumpled in the pocket of her light summer jacket and she squeezed it tightly as she entered the red telephone booth and went down into the abyss.

* * *

><p>It may have been summer outside, but it was deadly cold in the waiting room of Courtroom Ten. The corridor was empty and forlorn. She would have preferred the chirping birds.<p>

Evey wished she had worn her jeans. Out of misplaced respect for authority, she had put on a skirt and stockings, believing that this "good girl" look might appease the judges. All it did was make her shiver uncontrollably as she sat there, waiting for impending doom.

She reread Harry's letter, trying very hard not to sob all over her ironed blouse. It was childish, but she couldn't help it. She should have been playing video games in her living room instead of contemplating magical prison.

Time dragged on miserably and all she could hear was her own belaboured breathing and the furious scratching of a quill. The secretary's desk was right around the corner. She hadn't even looked up when Evey had passed her by.

Now she wondered if she would mind being interrupted by an almost weeping seventeen-year old. She needed to talk to someone. Anyone. The subject didn't matter. Just something to distract her from the present moment. She was about to try her luck, when her eye caught the shape of something yellow on the floor, some feet away. She got up and took a few steps in its direction.

But oddly, the farther she walked, the farther it seemed.

She was almost at the end of the corridor when she finally managed to get close it.

_The hell...?_

It was a teddy bear. Not just any teddy bear. She recognized it all too well. The same chewed-off left ear, the same white scratch on its black little nose. The pink dot where she had tried to draw a heart on its chest.

Mr. Potts.

_But it's impossible._ _He burned in the house fire._

Yet there it was, sitting on the floor in front of her. Like it had always been there. She was either hallucinating from the stress, or her teddy bear had resurrected itself.

Shakily, she bent down to pick it up.

"What are you doing here, Pottsie?"

The last thing she saw was its painted blue eyes before she was knocked over the head.

* * *

><p>Her muscles were not going to thank her for sleeping on the floor, that was for sure.<p>

Evey groaned as she rolled on her stomach. Her hands stretched out on the cold hard marble and landed on a piece of plush.

She blinked her eyes open. Mr. Potts was staring back at her. Just as inanimate as before.

The teddy bear who had somehow survived the fire.

Evey rubbed the back of her head. Already she could feel a sore bump where she had been hit. When she removed her hand, there was a spatter of blood on her palm.

_Shit_. _What the hell happened?_

What kind of lunatic would hit someone over the head and then flee?

_And yet I'm the threat here..._

She could tell it was only a superficial injury, but getting blood on her clothes was a no-no. What would those judges think if the suspect came to the hearing looking like Hannibal Lecter?

She took out her wand and, aiming it carefully at the back of her head, tried to get the skin to close. It was, ironically, the same spell she had used on Demelza that night when everything had gone wrong. A billion years later, she was at the Ministry of Magic, trying to prove her innocence. Life was weird that way.

She yelped. She had applied to much pressure and cauterized the wrong patch of skin. Her scalp was on fire.

_There goes my haphazard dream of becoming a mediwitch._

She rummaged in her purse for a napkin and tapped her wand on it to get it wet. Then she pressed it to the singeing spot and held it there, sighing with relief, until -

"Just what in Merlin's name do you think you are doing, young lady?"

Evey looked up disoriented. From her place down on the floor, the elderly woman towering above her looked like a sneering giant.

"Sorry. I think – I think I got attacked actually."

"Are you pulling my leg, girl? I have been sitting at that desk for hours and I didn't see you go in. So, how is it that you find yourself here?"

"Sitting at the desk? But – you're not the same secretary."

"Oh, is that the story you're selling? Nice try. You have five seconds until I call the guards. And they're not as nice as me."

Evey wondered if this confusing exchange was due in part to the knock on her head. She noticed, stupidly, that the woman had a red mole on her left cheek.

"Wow, okay. I'm here for my hearing. I didn't know you had guards."

"_Hearing_?" she echoed rather upset and her frizzy hair, held atop her head in an eccentric bun, trembled with indignation.

"Yes. Um, scheduled right about now, actually," Evey said, checking her watch.

The woman narrowed her eyes at her.

"Oh, you are a jester, aren't you? A hearing?! When the Ministry is already tied up in knots!"

Evey was startled by the vehemence of her accusations.

"I don't understand – has it been cancelled?" Could she hope for something as auspicious as that?

"I ought to have them escort you by the wrists. _Cancelled! _ Such nonsense! Well, don't just stand there. Get up immediately and make yourself presentable!" the woman cried, reaching out to help her up.

Evey was still a bit light-headed but she managed to stand on her feet fine. She lifted Mr. Potts from the floor.

"What's that you got there?"

"My – my teddy bear."

"Aren't you a bit old for that?"

"I found it lying here..." she muttered, looking back at the empty corridor with confusion.

The woman eyed her warily. "Are your wits about you, girl?"

"Yeah, I think so. I just don't know how it got here," she replied, holding onto its paws like it would disappear at any given moment.

"Right. Let's check if you are unhinged. Or lying."

Without further ado, the woman whipped out her wand and hit Evey with a blast of light that almost knocked her out.

"Veritas!" the woman yelled.

Evey opened her mouth in shock. "Hey! That's illegal! You can't do that!"

The secretary laughed. "It's quite legal, I assure you. Especially in such dark times. Name?"

"Evelyn O'Connel."

"What are you _really_ here for?"

Evey felt as if the words were wrenched out of her with pliers.

"I told you, I'm here for my hearing."

"There is no hearing scheduled for today. Have your brains been scattered?"

"No."

"Have you been Imperiused?"

"No."

"What hearing are you talking about, then?"

"I – a criminal hearing." Every question seemed to strip her bare.

"_Criminal_? Oh my. I knew there was something queer about you. What are you accused of?"

"Cohorting with the Dark Lord," Evey replied directly.

The woman stepped back, her expression aghast. "You call him – the _Dark_ _Lord_?"

"Yes. Almost everyone does," she replied, feeling the effects of the spell slowly wear off.

"Good Merlin. You're one of his supporters. He's started recruiting younglings!" she moaned, shaking her head in despair.

Evey shook her head. "No. No, I'm not really – they just suspect I am, but it's not true."

"Suspecting is as good as guilty these days! What is a girl like you doing with the likes of Grindelwald?"

Evey frowned. _Grindelwald_?

The name sounded vaguely familiar. Like something out of a history book.

"Uh, I don't know who you're talking about."

The woman grit her teeth and aimed the wand at her once more. "Veritas!" she yelled again, before Evey had time to deflect it.

"You can't keep doing this! People go to Azkaban for it!"

"That is where you'll be stationed if you don't tell me right now how you are connected to Grindelwald!" she shouted in her ear.

"I told you I don't know him!"

"Have you consumed a counter-Veritas potion?"

"No! I don't know anyone by that name! Or any potion like that!"

"Then why is it you've been called to a hearing on the matter?"

"I'm not here for him. I'm here for Voldemort!" Evey spat, feeling the bile rise up in her throat.

The woman stepped back with a huff and looked her up and down.

"Voldemort?" she echoed displeased. "What kind of hopscotch name is that?"

Evey's eyes widened considerably.

"You don't know him?"

"I don't have time to keep up with you young people! Who is this man you're talking about?"

Evey couldn't believe it. The woman must have been living under a rock. And she was clearly a sociopath who had no idea how the wizarding world worked. Veritas had been outlawed some time ago.

"He's famous. You know, the dark wizard who caused a lot of damage in the last couple of months? He's the one. But he's dead now."

The woman seemed shockingly uninterested by her information. Her red mole contorted meanly as she gave a great big sigh.

"Well, there's no point to him anymore, is there? So many wizards, good or bad, are found dead these days. It's almost impossible to remember them all."

_How does she not remember Voldemort? Is she a troll?  
><em>

The woman, at length, lowered her wand.

Evey exhaled in relief.

"You must have got the date wrong. There will be no hearing for the rest of the month," the secretary continued more soberly, the energy she had previously exhibited suddenly gone. She looked weary and haggard.

"I'm sorry about the spell, but we are not taking any chances anymore," she said, gesturing for her to follow.

Evey was beginning to feel something had gone wrong along the way. Something she had not foreseen. Mr. Potts was sitting in her arms, for one.

At the secretary's desk, which was quite different from the one she'd walked past an hour ago, the woman checked a long list of names.

"What'd you say your name was again?"

"Evelyn O'Connell."

"No...I only have an Evelyn Potts here. Scheduled for a wizarding passport on Level Five."

Evey froze.

"Evelyn Potts?" she echoed, startled.

"Do you know her?"

Evey shook her head. "Absolutely not."

"Well, then. Do you need assistance to get to a different Level? Do you require a mediwizard? You may have suffered some kind of magic-induced memory loss. No one is safe these days."

"Why do you think that...?"

"Well, you would have to be out of the loop to come to the Ministry on August 1st, 1944! Haven't you read the news and notices? We are shut down except for international emergencies! Grindelwald is preparing an attack again."

Evey took a step back, felt her grip loosen on the teddy bear. In fact, her whole existence seemed to unravel quite precipitately. She'd had a similar experience the time Katie Bell had accidentally sent the Quaffle into her mouth during Quidditch practice. And she had been simply watching Demelza from the stands. But that's what it felt like; an outward intrusion, unexpected and absurd.

"Sorry? You said something about 1944?"

The woman peered at her impatiently. "I did. Something the matter?"

"Are you sure that's the right date?"

"Of course I'm sure! Now, you had best be on your way, Miss O'Connell. I don't have time to Veritas you again and we can't spare another interrogation room."

Evey clutched the bear to her chest.

"But you're clearly joking. This can't be 1944. It's 1998. Give me a calendar and I'll show."

"_1998_?" she cackled. "And I am the King of England! You are quite a cheeky one."

Evey felt she might start screaming like a maniac if the woman didn't admit she was wrong.

With trembling hands, she pulled out the crumpled letter from her pocket. Harry's name was still there, etched in blue ink. She looked at the bottom of the letter where the year had been written with alacrity. _1998_.

"_Well_?" the woman asked brazenly.

"Guess I'll be going now," Evey mumbled, stuffing the letter back in her pocket. She just had to get away from this crazy person and reach modern society. Once she was out of the Ministry and back into the real world, she wouldn't have to worry about what year it was.

The good news was that the hearing wasn't happening. The bad news was that she was only postponing the inevitable. They would obviously call her back here and make her go through the same excruciating wait.

_No rest for the wicked_, she suddenly thought, although she couldn't say _who_ the wicked was in this situation.

As she made her way to the lifts, she couldn't help noticing the corridors were quite empty but for a few rushing employees who cast her cursory glances of surprise before pressing on with their urgent business. She wanted to believe the Ministry had imposed a new wardrobe standard and that the robes she was seeing were not really that _odd-__looking._

_Get back to the real world now!_

The ride down to the Atrium seemed to last for half a century. She had no company. The usually busy lift was occupied by her solely.

When the doors opened and she stepped into the sweeping galleries of the Atrium, the first thing she noticed was that something was missing. The majestic Fountain of Magical Brethren, the one she always stopped at to drop a coin, was _gone_.

Evey walked up to the empty spot where it should have been. She stood there for a long minute, looking up at the ceiling with the lost look of a sleepwalker. This had to be a dream.

* * *

><p>The telephone booth rattled ominously on its way up and it was with great difficulty that she finally made it to the surface. The phone looked ancient. And so did the street as she pushed the door open.<p>

The cars – old. The streetlamps – old. The sky – old.

She was looking at a holiday postcard, something sentimental her grandmother must have kept from her teenage years.

She had gone down under and come back a different way. The colourful city had been turned into a wreck. The streets and buildings looked ravaged by a great disease. At the same time, there was a timeless sinister, beauty about this crumbling vista which had risen from a different era.

Evey felt her body growing colder with each moment, as if her skin was foreign and her blood had been turned to ice. There was an implacable distance between her and this world. Her lungs filled up with dread.

She looked at Mr. Potts.

"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

* * *

><p><strong>So, here we are at the third chapter. Thoughts? Criticism? Please let me know. I realize this is going at a slower pace but I feel it's better this way, hope you agree :)<strong>

**Many thanks to Bella (oh gosh, thank you, that's extremely kind! I hope you like this chapter as well and I'm very glad you like Evey), Wise Ocean, Estelle Lumene, NobLe123.**


	4. I want my Mummy!

_4: I want my Mummy!_

* * *

><p>Evey's first instinct was to go back inside the telephone booth, ride down into the Ministry Atrium, and hope that when she made the journey back up, she would no longer see this crummy, browbeaten version of London in front of her eyes.<p>

_Accidents do happen...didn't someone say the visitors' entrance can turn into a portkey if you're not careful? _

The problem was, the phone still looked ancient. It was one of those candlestick telephones you could see at the museum. It made no sense for it to be there.

_Accidents, okay, Evey?_ _Accidents_, she kept telling herself.

She picked up the receiver with unease and dialled '62442' manually, inserting her finger inside each of the little holes marking the numbers.

She waited, but there was no movement or sign that the floor was going to lower itself.

Then, a crisp female voice announced in her ear,

"We apologize. The Ministry has been closed until further notice. For emergencies, press the following sequence and make your query."

Evey couldn't believe it. It was only moments before that she had left the Ministry, and now it was closing shop.

"How bloody fortunate," she muttered.

She dialled the instructed sequence, hoping to hear an actual person on the other line and not just a disembodied voice.

"Ministry emergency line, how may I be of assistance?" a man's voice chimed in with false cheer. Evey was relieved there was someone _breathing_ on the other end.

"Hi, hello...uh, I'm sorry to bother you, but I think the visitors' entrance is malfunctioning? I rode back up and found myself...in a different spot."

"You mean to say, Miss, that the telephone booth has been moved from its location?"

"I don't actually know, I mean it looks like it's in the same place, but it isn't really. The street is very different–"

"Are you bodily injured, Miss?"

"What? No, but –"

"Have your mental capacities been altered?"

"Well, I'd have no way of knowing that, would I?"

"And are you being escorted by a chaperone?"

Evey frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Do you have a companion with you? I hope you are not travelling alone."

Evey wrinkled her nose in disdain. "Not really the point right now."

"Shall I fetch you an escort? These are troubling times –"

"No! Look, can you help me? I've ended up in a completely different part of London – one I really am not familiar with."

"So you are still in London and are of healthy body and mind. And you do not require a chaperone. Well it pains me to say it, but this is not an emergency, Miss, and as this line is strictly reserved for serious cases..."

"Hang on! This is a very serious case. I'm stranded! And I'm not exaggerating, but this doesn't look like any normal part of London. Everything's so _old_ –"

"Then you _do_ require a chaperone," the male voice concluded triumphantly.

Evey pinched the bridge of her nose. "Forget it."

"Forget what?"

"Can you please tell me when the Ministry will be opening again?"

"We are not at liberty to say, but the Prophet will have weekly reports on the matter. We don't expect this to last for more than a month or two."

"A month or two?! But _why_?"

"Ah, you must know by now Grindelwald is preparing another attack."

Evey grumbled under her breath. _This_ name again. What _had_ happened in the course of twenty-four hours that suddenly everyone was talking about this new guy and not Voldemort?

"One last thing. Could you please tell me the date?" she asked, holding her breath.

"Oh, certainly, Miss. It's August the 1st, 1944."

Evey's hopes were dashed and spurned once more. "Right...1944."

"Now, if there is nothing else, I do really need to get back to actual emergencies..." he trailed off awkwardly.

Evey put the receiver back in its place and walked out of the booth with Mr. Potts under her arm.

The same shabby, dreary-looking street rolled out in front of her, a reminder that accidents do happen, but that this wasn't one of them.

_Okay. Back in 1998, there was an old skyway between the two buildings. Now, if I turn the corner –_

The skyway, looking considerably newer and with fewer missing stones, was still in the same place.

_Shit! It's the same street, after all. _

Evey almost wanted to duck when she saw a young couple walking in her direction. The man was sporting a funny-looking straw hat with a white band around it, a frayed grey militia jacket and shoes that seemed to come from her great aunt's tap-dancing days. The woman was wearing a patterned kerchief over her hair and a long brown coat. Her legs were bare and on her feet were the most ghastly-looking wooden sandals.

They walked fast, but not as if they were bound to arrive somewhere quickly. They both carried paper bags in their arms and seemed protective of their charge.

Evey could tell they were not and could never be 1998 folk. They would have been perfect stand-ins in a war drama, however.

_Or maybe you're just buying into this gimmick. Maybe they're shooting a film._

The couple disappeared into an alley, but other scattered packs of people started walking down the street. One or two of them held a child by the hand. They all looked pretty grim and focused. Only one child smiled at her in passing. She realized later he was smiling at Mr. Potts.

Just then, she heard a raucous noise coming from behind. It sounded like the engine of a car. She stepped back on the pavement.

It was just like in the old films. The car had a tall roof and a curled up bonnet. The headlights looked like giant spectacles. The honk, too, was like a battle cry. Only snooty collectors would still own and drive such a thing nowadays.

_Nowadays? Am I still in "nowadays"?_

As she followed the car with its eyes, she noticed someone inside was throwing leaflets out the window. The people hurried to catch them, the children running and yelling to reach them first.

One wayward leaflet reached her too.

She bent down.

_NEW FOOD RATIONS TO BE IMPLEMENTED BEFORE CHRISTMAS! LET YOUR FAMILY AND LOVED ONES KNOW! SUGAR AND BUTTER ARE NOW AVAILABLE IN NEGOTIABLE QUANTITIES!_

Evey read on a bit further.

_Thanks to our Government's tireless efforts, by December, 1944, we will be looking at an improvement in the Englishman's everyday meal..._

It was no point denying it anymore, no matter how much her heart lurched in her chest. She wasn't on the set of any period movie. The Ministry employees weren't pulling her leg. This wasn't a very late or very early April 1st. This was happening. This was real.

This was 1944.

* * *

><p>Evey sat by the side of the road for a good half hour, unable to get up and move beyond the telephone booth. She held Mr. Potts tightly in her arms, alternating between crying her eyes out and staring into space like a drug addict. Onlookers hurried past her with curious, but detached glances.<p>

No one stopped to ask her what was wrong or to pat her on the back, because this was London in war time and everyone had their own tragedy or at least small misfortune to occupy their minds with. A young girl crying by the side of the road was no longer an impressionable sight.

Eventually, a policeman did come up to inquire on her state of being, but rather than exhibiting concern for her welfare, he was more interested in maintaining the peace. Evey was the disruption. She had to grudgingly walk away from the booth; her only connection to a familiar world.

She ambled along the road in a daze, not knowing where she was headed, not knowing where she'd stop. The tears were drying up on her cheeks. She wanted her Mum and Dad. She wanted to call them, wanted to hear their voice, wanted them to gather her in their strong arms.

She felt like one of those kids on their first day of school.

"I want my Mummy!" they'd shout at the top of their lungs, kicking and screaming at the teacher.

_I want mine too!_ she moaned in sympathy.

Her Mum was the sensible one. She'd know what to do. And her Dad would be right behind her. They would get her out of this nightmare.

_Except they haven't been born yet...minor inconvenience,_ she thought cynically.

And _would_ they know what to do? Her parents were still Muggles. How would they even begin to deal with time paradoxes? She hadn't even disclosed to them the real reason behind the hearing. Some daughter she was.

_Oh, God, what if I never see them again?_

Evey ducked quickly into one of the alleys and heaved. Her stomach was rumbling. She bent down and emptied the contents of her breakfast on the dirty ground.

_Can't think like that!_

But what else was there to contemplate?

Parentless, friendless, _time_-less.

The only thing she still had was magic. Her wand was safely tucked in the pocket of her skirt. One solitary comfort.

_At least I won't die of thirst. Aguamenti should keep me going for a couple of days._

There was also Mr. Potts, who was still firmly in her grasp.

_Okay, think of other positive things...come on..._

She leaned her forehead against the wet bricks.

_Good thing I wore my skirt and blouse, after all. I won't stand out in the crowd too much. It's true I look a lot healthier than most people here and my skin looks brighter. But no one's going to notice or, I don't know, report me for it...Oh, my God, I am actually contemplating life in the 1940s._

There had to be a way out of this hell. She was not going to die here.

_Who am I kidding? I'm going to die here. _

* * *

><p>"Thanks, um, here," Evey muttered, passing the waitress the pound notes from her purse. Her hands were shaking like mad and fresh tears kept springing to her eyes almost against her will.<p>

The waitress, a corpulent but haggard looking woman who wore a sweeping skirt and a dirty apron around her bosom tutted in sympathy or disapproval; she couldn't tell.

"Father, brother or sweetheart, love?" she asked querulously.

"Sorry?"

"Who's the one they got shipped over the Channel?"

Evey at first did not comprehend the question, but looking around the dingy restaurant at the drawn faces of the other diners, especially the women dressed in all black, she realized what the waitress was getting at.

"Oh. Um. Brother," she answered bleakly.

"Knew it. You seem a tad green for a lover, don't you?" she said, nudging her chin at the teddy bear.

Evey held out her hand protectively over its belly.

The waitress chuckled. "No worries, love! No one's going to take your teddy! Not in here anyway. But I'd keep my eye out in the street...Everything's for sale these days."

Evey fingered the mushy and rather unappealing looking rectangle on her plate. It was something called a "bread pudding" and you could tell the bread was stale. This was supposed to be the most nourishing item on the menu. She'd heard about war inflation and its devastating effects. She had to add starvation to the long list of possible ways to die in the 1940s.

Still, she had managed to get herself off the street after an interminable period of wandering around like an orphan. Being inside four walls made her feel safer, if only a little.

Innumerable other problems crowded her already overwhelmed mind.

She was aware her Muggle money would run out pretty soon and forging some of it with magic was something she, unfortunately, had not learned to do.

_Why doesn't Hogwarts teach us something like this? It would be more useful than transfiguring a rat into a cup! Well...it would probably be illegal too._

Inflation, _again_, was going to make her broke even quicker, since a measly meal _here_ cost almost as much as that luxurious lunch she was planning for herself.

Then there was the issue of accommodations. Where in God's name would she sleep that night?

On a bench, in a park, under the stars?

_How romantic._

What about her clothes? August was not going to stay relatively warm for long. She'd need something sturdier for the rainy days to come. And what happened when they got dirty beyond the point of wear?

Had she not better _Avada Kedavra_ herself right now and save herself some pain?

Evey put her head on the table.

_Why me? What did I do? Oh, right. I apparently colluded with the Dark Lord. _

Somewhere between despair and starvation she'd have to start thinking about what had happened.

_How_ she had gotten there. In 19-_bloody_-44.

For now, she closed her eyes and let one more tear fall into her bread pudding.

* * *

><p>After ingesting some stale bread and margarine and drinking some weak coffee that actually tasted like mud, she was ready to analyze her situation with a bit more cold blood.<p>

First, there was the issue of the hearing. It hadn't slipped her notice that her current misfortune had occurred on the exact day of _that_ terrible event. After all, Voldemort had begun ruining her life since the night of the Battle. Why not go one step further and ruin it completely? Someone like him couldn't just _die_ without others suffering the consequences.

Second, Mr. Potts was somehow not a burnt effigy, but a faithful relic of her childhood, sitting right there in her lap. How and why the bear had been found in that corridor was something she could not wrap her head around. Obviously, _someone_ must have left it there. The toy couldn't just apparate on its own.

There were two possibilities; either a freak had replicated her childhood teddy bear to almost microscopic detail, or an even bigger freak had gone into her burning house and rescued it for her.

_Why give it to me now? And what does it have to do with, _she held her breath, _time-travelling?_

Her eyes fell over the teddy's proud little head. She touched the synthetic fur with a sense of foreboding. What did innocent Mr. Potts hide behind its plush exterior?

And then, she noticed a red spot under its left ear.

Evey picked it up and pulled back the ear.

She sniffed at the dark red strands. They were caked in blood.

_Blood...my blood._

She touched the back of her head, where the wound was still sore. She was willing to bet that the jerk who'd hit her over the head had also had something to do with this. In fact, he or she could have arranged this entire fiasco -

"Think you're funny, do you, Miss?"

Evey looked up startled. The waitress was back at her table and by the looks of her face, she was _fuming_.

"Sorry?"

Several pound notes were dropped on the table with disgust.

"Those French bastards tried to give me fake notes too and you know what I did? I threw them out on the kerb, I did!"

Evey was about to push back the notes, ready to swear they were real, when she realized – _no_, they weren't. They all had Queen Elizabeth's face on them. Queen Elizabeth...who was still barely out of childhood at this point.

"Fuck," she blurted out unseemly.

The scandalized waitress and the diners at the nearby tables all stopped to stare. It was probably not very ladylike of someone her age to utter such an expletive.

"You've got a sailor's mouth on you, Miss. Don't be starting any trouble now. All I need from you is a fair pay."

Evey wished the earth could swallow her up. Never in her life had she been placed in such an awful position. She didn't suppose magic could get her out of this fix. Casting _Obliviate_ on an entire restaurant seemed...impractical.

"Look, the money is...authentic and it's probably worth something if you pawn it."

_If you pawn it?! Nice going, Eve._

"You want me to do -what? I'm an honest woman, Miss!"

"No, I didn't mean it like that! It's just that um, they're a new kind of print and..." she trailed off in a fit of panic, "...and my brother gave them to me before he left for the war!"

She put her hands over her face and half-pretended to cry in her fists.

Mercifully, she only got thrown out on the street, and not arrested. Her sob story must have earned the waitress' disgusted pity, if not her real compassion.

Evey had been stuck in 1944 for exactly four hours, judging from her wrist watch, and already she had committed a crime.

She was reaching the lowest point of the day, the moment when she'd finally collapse by the side of the road and start screaming, "I want to go home!"

The only money she had left was the galleons. And the only place in London she knew that accepted them was the Leaky Cauldron.

At least she would be spared the life of a vagrant for one night or two, at best. Eventually, that money would disappear too. And then, well, she'd just have to drink some rat poison. Or enlist herself as a nurse in the army. She was pretty sure they needed all the extra help they could get, even if at this point, the war was nearly over.

_You had to end up in 1944. Not 1945, when the war would've been over, and not earlier, when you could've done something with it. No. It's just dull, horrible 1944._

* * *

><p>Normally, returning to the magical world would have comforted her immensely, but since the Ministry was closed and no one there had managed to help her anyway, she doubted any kind soul at the Leaky Cauldron could provide indefinite shelter or some way to send her back – no, <em>forward<em> in time.

They might believe her story, but a teddy bear? It sounded farfetched, even for the wizarding community. It sounded bloody _impossible._

Evey knew what Dem would say right about now.

"You're being so negative that you are actually attracting _more_ trouble your way. You've got to learn to take things as they come. Stop putting up a fight."

But hey, her friend was not currently experiencing the worst torture ever concocted by fate, _so excuse me, Demelza, if I want to kick 1944 in the face!_

She hadn't realized she'd said that out loud.

The passers-by ogled at her in an unflattering manner, but she sneered and opened the creaky door to the Leaky Cauldron and stepped inside.

Evey blinked. And exhaled.

Not a lot had changed, or was going to change about the Leaky Cauldron in the following years. It still looked like the cosy basement of some senile carpenter who liked to over-decorate; the same dank atmosphere, the same smell of cabbage, the same clusters of moving pictures, the same confusing display of chairs on the ceiling, the same great big hearth, the same wooden stairways leading up to the rooms –

"Welcome, dearie," an elder man addressed her cheerily, giving a small bow. "Would you like something to eat or drink or are you here for a room?"

"Um, both actually."

"Splendid! My name is Tom. Now, how about you come sit with me at the bar, eh?"

Evey was startled by so much kindness after a pretty dismal and traumatizing morning. She didn't realize how forlorn and bedraggled she looked until she excused herself and visited the loo.

"Good God!"

In the span of hours, her cheeks and eyes had sunken in, her hair had become matted to the roots and her skin had borrowed a very strange sallow shine that made her look like a particularly anxious consumption patient. No wonder the inn keeper had been so fatherly.

She splashed some water on her face and rinsed her mouth, but what she really needed was a full meal and a good night's sleep. She hadn't been sleeping well all week what with the stress of the hearing and it showed. But she couldn't begin to think of resting until she figured out what she was going to do in the following days. It may be that after tonight, she'd wake up back in 1998. It may be that she'd be stuck here...indefinitely.

"Stop it!" she shouted at the reflection in the mirror. "You're not thinking straight! You're getting out of here, even if you have to kill someone!"

She hadn't noticed the little girl behind her coming out of a bathroom stall.

"Oh, er, hello there...how are you?"

"What do you mean you're going to kill someone?"

"No! I didn't really mean I'd _kill_ someone. Not physically. It's a saying."

The little girl chewed on her lip pensively.

"Are you fighting in the war?"

"No?"

"Then you're not allowed to kill anyone. My Daddy said so."

"But you're allowed to if you're a soldier?"

"Of course," the little girl replied promptly. "And you must do it swiftly, but with respect. Daddy said that too."

Evey raised an eyebrow. "Well, at least there's respect involved."

"Yes. He said he'd shoot a man through his eye but make his grave afterwards. I hope he gets to do that."

_Oookay...40s kids creep me out, officially. _

"But isn't your dad a wizard? Why would he need to fight in the war?"

The little girl looked mortally offended.

"Daddy says it's cowardly to stand by and watch the Muggles die! Daddy is right!"

"Okay, okay! Sorry I asked."

"You should fight in the war too!" she suddenly exclaimed.

"Well, I'm a girl and so are you so the most action we'd get is stitching up a wound or putting back a dislocated shoulder."

"Then go do that!" the little girl harrumphed and exited the bathroom in a frenzy.

For the first time that awful day, Evey threw her head back and laughed.

* * *

><p>"Just write your name in the notebook, sign, tap your wand here and the room is yours!"<p>

Evey couldn't quite believe she'd get to sleep in a bed that night. The situation was still pretty dire – the galleons only lasted her for three nights and one meal – but it could have been worse. Much worse.

She wrote down "Evelyn" on the dotted line, signed and tapped her wand.

"Ah, I understand why you would not want to write your full name. Dark times, these are. With Grindelwald on the loose again, you're never too safe," the inn keeper, Tom, spoke over her shoulder.

Evey blushed. "I'm sorry – I didn't think it mattered."

"Oh, no, dear, I wouldn't want to impose on your privacy. Here you go," he said, handing her the key.

"Now, does your little friend there also require a room?" he winked cheekily.

Evey looked down at Mr. Potts, whose head was peeking out of her bag.

"After all the trouble he got me in, I think not."

"Enjoy your stay," he offered jovially.

As Evey climbed up the stairs, however, his smile vanished, replaced instead with a frown of concern. These days, more and more anonymous witches and wizards were showing up at the Leaky Cauldron.

When he darted into his office for a quick drink, he found Madora, his assistant-accountant-help (and many other jobs for which she complained she was not paid enough) looking over his books.

"Let me guess," she muttered without looking up. "Another nameless vagabond."

"This one has money, Maddie."

"Yes, yes, they all do, one way or another. But what happens when the Ministry runs us down for protocol, eh? They've been threatening to do inspections. And they have all the incentive they need, now with Grindelwald. We must have full names, _real_ identities."

"Oh, Maddie, the Ministry's closed now, they won't bother us –"

"_Really_? Or perhaps that's only a ruse so they can catch us off-guard. They'd look for spies and conspirators even under our sink, if they could manage! I wouldn't want our inn to be taken for _that_ kind of place."

"What nonsense! She's just an innocent young girl. She even had a teddy with her."

"Find out her real name and write it down in the books. I've had enough of our lax policy."

* * *

><p><strong>Back with another chapter in time for Christmas! Thoughts? Criticism? Please let me know. I hope you don't mind that I kind of delve into this past world and add a bit more detail. <strong>

**Many thanks to Estelle Lumene, Wise Ocean, Esen (thanks a lot, I'm so glad you like Evey! Also, this chapter should give you an idea how she's settling in, so far), SweetCheeks94, Servolos, Guest (thanks so much!)**

**Sidenote: The inn keeper is named Tom, like the inn keeper from the present time. I like to think there's a whole legacy of Toms, from father to son, who run the inn, just to piss off Tom Riddle even more.**

**Happy Christmas!**


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